Can a Speech Get Rained Out?

So, the Sandpoint Sampler, scheduled for today, was postponed until next week.  If it had gone off as scheduled, local restaurant owners would have set up shop in Farmin Park and hungry people could come and sample the offerings.  

Oops, if it had gone off as scheduled, local restaurant owners would have paddled their boats full of slimy spaghetti, rain-rotted alfalfa sprouts, roast leg of drowned duck and fartless burritos to Farmin Park,  and a few brave hungry mouths covered with raingear may have showed up looking for a good deal. 

And, it's very possible, they could have drunk their dinner without aid of alcohol, green tea or strawberry punch.  The rain would have taken care of that.

Apparently, the folks sponsoring the event, listened to the NOAH (is there an ark involved there?) weather forecast for 100 percent rain on Thursday.  Knowing a rainy forecast when they saw one----after all we've all become experienced at that lately----they chose wisely to postpone the food party.  

I'll bet a few baseball games get rained out today, just as will several neighborhood lawnmowing parties.  

This all begs the question:  could the speech Willie and I have to give tonight in Post Falls possibly get rained out?  

Could the Spokane River possibly overflow its banks into Templins dining room and send all the guests scurrying for higher ground?  And, could those ladies from that teaching sorority decide they really don't need to listen to "Education:  A Family Runs through It."  

After all, there's a river running past that place, and it could run through it.

I guess that's a lot of wishful thinking on my part.  Cuz, yes, it's nervous-stomach day.  At last, the day has come, when I can finally go through the torment of anticipation once more (after stating publicly I'd never do such things again), take several trips to the bathroom and finally get introduced as the banquet speaker.  

That is the key moment for today.  Once I step up to the podium, most of that crazy nervous stuff goes away, but as yet, I've found no hypnotist or therapist who can make me believe that giving a speech is no big deal.  

"Pretend they're all naked," the experts say.  Well, the naked truth is they aren't.  They're real live human beings--teachers no less---sitting there with real expectations for this neurotic, pacing lady to get up there and sound halfway intelligent. 

Tonight I am going armed with a quasi-relaxation ploy:  my son.  I'm banking on the fact that all those female school teachers will be so enamored with my charming Willie (the only man in the room)  that attention will be deflected.  They really won't even be listening to me cuz they're dealing with their own anticipation euphoria as opposed to my anticipation anxiety.

Oh, they will humor me by pretending to pay attention to my long-crafted words about all the teaching influences in our family dating back to Iva Downing Tibbs and Ora Scott Love and leading right up to William E. Love III, educator,  because they just can't wait for adorable William E. Love III, educator,  to get up and flash those big brown eyes at them and work his elocutionary magic.

Yeah, Willie will provide a buffer between me and my fears, but I'll still be nervous and wishing the Spokane River would flood and Templins would have to evacuate before 6 p.m.  and when we come hydro-planing into the parking lot, some security guard will meet us and say, "Sorry, but your speech has been canceled due to rain."  

Fat chance.  

But it IS mighty wet out, and I DID finally place my tomatoes into relatively moist ground yesterday, and they probably will float away from the mud flats today.

In fact, the probability of those tomatoes heading southward toward Post Falls and floating on down the Spokane River  is surely a lot higher than my wishful thinking that a speech could be rained out.

So, I'd better get on with the day and let the stomach get nervous and just plan get it over with.  Actually, I think the ladies will go easy on me. 

Stay dry, and put the Sandpoint Sampler on your calendar for NEXT THURSDAY.  Maybe it won't rain out.